Ayano gently pressed the mirrored medicine cabinet door until it clicked into place with a soft but solid feeling schincket, and...uh, well, pointedly studied the back of her hand. The usually unblemished expanse of soft, pale skin was inflamed in hot, angry pink, puckered and puffy around a long diagonal scratch spanning the length of her hand from the base of her wrist all the way to the knuckle of her index finger.

Phase two of tonight's plan (For the love o-just a selfie with a cat!) should have been the easy bit. Cats were pretty natural models...uh, weren't they? Well, so their photographic dominance of the internet suggests anyway. And she wasn't even shooting for anything Instagram-worthy! Just a quick little snap she could send to Osana-chan that would prove she had completed the task as promised and, hopefully, entice the other girl into an early morning visit before school tomorrow.

Unfortunately it seemed Osana's cat was the rare example of her species that was...camera-shy.

That initial trusting and docile (If a little...haughty.) personality* had done a solid one-eighty, and she'd been uncooperative and downright hostile, all puffed up twice her size and hissing, wide blue eyes tinted with a translucent, gleaming halo of that eerie pink-orange sheen flickering on and off, no less...unsettling for all its transparency in her brightly lit living room.

Not that any of that had really been any kind problem, per say, more like...staging. Tiny imperfections easily remedied with a well-composed text or creative use of filter, but...she'd also hunkered down against the back wall of the carrier and outright refused to budge!

The swipe had come out of nowhere for all Ayano could actually see inside the carrier when her patience -already worn paper thin by her earlier tussle with Hikkikomori- had given out and she'd, as hindsight snidely recalled, foolishly tried to force the issue.

And, yes, okay, yes, even in the moment, reaching in through the narrow opening of a cat carrier housing an animal that had recently been used as the rope for an impromptu game of tug-o-war had sounded like a Bad Idea, but it had been late, and she'd been exhausted, still reeling from the emotional ringer she'd just experienced and feeling frazzled and fragile with all this new and unexpected...unpleasantness swarming and churning inside her, with nothing to show for all her effort and discomfort but a blurry saiPhone pic of a vaguely feline-shaped shadow-blob that was never going invoke the sort of reaction she wanted...

...Ah, well...a-anyway, the scratch itself really wasn't bad, more warning than assault with actual damage limited to stung-like-hell when she'd washed her face. And, she'd managed to eventually get the picture she needed.

...It had required the sacrifice of tomorrow's lunch, strategically placed on one side of the coffee table and 'leaving the room' around the corner, but that was neither here nor there. And, silver lining, judging by the gloss in that caramel-n-cream colored coat, this cat had claws that were likely cleaner than some people's hands. She gave it two days and she wouldn't even have the mark as a reminder of her folly.

She picked up her toothbrush just as her phone began vibrating against the sink, it's cheerful, bubbling bloop alerting her to Osana's latest text.

Now I can finally report that scumbag to the police!

Ayano's smile was smug and serene, pleased with the consistent tone of excited gratitude laced throughout all of her rival's recent rapid-fire messages. "Mhm, perfect!" she purred to herself and popped her toothbrush betwixt her teeth to quickly tap out her response.

I need to return your cat. ...And, I need to have an important discussion with you. But, it's too late at night right now. Please meet me at my house before school tomorrow.

"Tch...little on the direct side," she admitted out loud as she briefly read the text over before tapping the 'send' button. It was actually late, after all, and not like neither had any early morning commitments.

...Also, she just...really wasn't very...good at extended conversation. She could handle two or three sentences about basically anything...but after that things just got stilted and awkward, and...to the point really was for the best.

She dropped her phone back to the sink and pulled her toothbrush from her mouth, reaching for the toothpaste with a Cheshire grin as her mind slipped allll the way back to a pretty...little...phone charm she'd picked up in the hedge maze; Osana really was just absurdly easy to befriend. Despite that somewhat annoying tendency to hiss and spit when she felt cornered or insecure, she was quick to please and eager to return favors, offering so much of herself in exchange for very little. Honestly it was no wonder Fumetsu-chan had adopted such a mama bear attitude toward her best friend; she was so innocent. So...trusting.

It was actually kind of cute.

Ayano giggled lightly around a mouthful of toothpaste as she leaned forward over the sink to rinse her mouth, unable, or just unwilling, to stem the sheer giddiness she felt bubbling inside her at the mere thought of the answer she knew she would receive.

"I will! And one last time...thank you!" she mimicked in her best impression of breathless excitement, toothbrush clutched dramatically to her chest. She giggled again and quickly ran it under the tap before the latent toothpaste-foam could drip down her wrist or onto her pajamas, allotting the task a level of attention it did not require, but...

...But the mirror still hung patiently over her head, it's cool, glossy surface a dull shine just inside her uppermost peripheral...

She frowned, suddenly annoyed by her own childish cowardice, and returned her toothbrush to it's holder, fingers turning white around the knob even after the water had stopped. This was stupid. The...th-that...thing. Incident. Whatever. Between her and...and Hikkikomori, it, it was...nothing. Stress, adrenalin, fear; new, intense emotions with which she no experience, all bubbling up at once and culminating in a brief, unsettling mind-trick. That's all it was. She couldn't let it get to her; it didn't mean anything, and she would not be intimidated by her own reflection.

As if in an effort to prove it, Ayano surprised herself by suddenly pushing up away from the sink and jerking her head up high to look directly at the mirror and...nearly laughed out loud when she saw...her face. That familiar pleasing symmetry of features; high cheekbones set against the subtle, elfin sharpness of her eyes and rounded angles of her nose, a certain feminine softness playing about the apples of her cheeks and gentle slope of her jaw...

...all hollowed cheeks and sharp angles, bones jutting subtly outwards, visible beneath sallow skin. Thin cracked lips stretched into a frighteningly euphoric smile below shadow-smudged eyes open wide and bright with insanity-

"Ah!"

She threw herself away from the sink -away from the mirror- and skittered blindly toward the door, tripping over a laundry basket in the process and hardly noticing when she hit the floor despite a soft, involuntary, "Oof!" Eyes fixed on the grotesque but recognizable image in the mirror, she scrambled backward on her butt and elbows until the wall blocked her exit-

And nearly jumped out of her skin when her phone buzzed and vibrated loudly against the sink, chiming with one final message from Osana-chan.

Her heart beat against her ribs as she worked to control her breathing, or at least get it somewhere around track day levels. The face in mirror was once again familiar, soft gray eyes, maybe a little wider than usual and darker seeming against such pale skin, bloodless with terror, but, nonetheless, reflected as she was.

As if needing confirmation, Ayano slowly touched her face with shaky fingers, watching with something like relief when her reflection did the same. Trembling digits carefully slid up the slope of her jaw to trace the subtle curve of her lips and brush along the soft swell of her cheek...

Her phone chose that moment to remind her of its exitance with a reprimanding second alert. Her startled gaze dropped from the mirror back to the sink where it vibrated, a low impatient buzz against the counter. Blinking, she stood slowly, almost methodically, needlessly straightening one strap of her sleeping tank and tugging at the bottoms of her shorts as she walked back over to the sink for no real reason other than she had this fidgety need to occupy her hands.

She cleared her throat softly, embarrassed though she didn't understand why, and picked up her phone, absently brushing phantom hairs to either side of her face as she tapped the only unread message.

I will! And one last time...thank you!

"Good," she breathed, soft and uncertain, staring absently at the plain block of text. She gave herself a brief, slow nod and ran her fingers through her hair. Pulled out her ponytail. Gave it a little floof with her fingers.

She turned back to the mirror and locked eyes with the still familiar reflection staring placidly back at her. This time her nod was firm.

"Good," she repeated, a little more conviction in her voice, and flicked off the light. The door swung shut behind her as she stepped out into the hall and headed for her room. It was time for bed; she had an impression to make in the morning, after all, and it wouldn't do to be looking bedraggled and sleep deprived.

She dreamed of funhouse mirrors. And cats. ...And blood.

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NOTES

*Can we take a second to properly appreciate just how thoroughly Hikkikomori lucked out that Osana apparently has the only feline in existence that not only doesn't hide behind the bookcase when other people show up, but also just waltzes into a pet carrier without first trying claim her pound of flesh? One or the other, okay, but both? That girl owns a unicorn.